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She continues slicing something on the chopping board, using the precision of a sushi chef. I glance over her shoulder to see what she’s cutting, and my heart stops. It’s a severed penis.
“What the fuck happened?” “That man touched me, so I cut off his dick,”
“A man came to the window,” she says, her voice distant and flat. “He was rude.” “He touched you?” “I stabbed him in the eye.”
This reaction to nearly killing him is unexpectedly arousing. I want to do it again.
“Crawl to me.”
Finally, he breaks the silence and says, “Now that I’ve had you, I can’t ever let you go. You’re mine, Seraphine. Every beautiful piece of you.”

